


Somebody told me,

by Salambo06



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bottom Sherlock, Declarations Of Love, Experienced Sherlock, First Kiss, First Time, Greg is a good friend, Happy Sex, M/M, in their own way, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 08:03:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6649228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salambo06/pseuds/Salambo06
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We don’t have any clients and Sherlock has been complaining for days now,” John said, “He wouldn’t have refused this case for anything in the world.”</p>
<p>“Listen,” Greg sighed, looking back at him, “I kept insisting, over and over and he probably snapped before thinking twice about it and clearly he didn’t want to tell me, and I really didn’t need to know, and-”</p>
<p>“Greg,” John cut him, “What did he say?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somebody told me,

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to [Heather](http://snogbox1.tumblr.com/) for her job as a beta !  
> [My Tumblr](http://letthechoirsing.tumblr.com/)

“Greg?”

John hurried to cross the street, waving at Greg as he approached. He had just left the clinic and for once had thought it would be nice to walk back home for a bit, the early April sun still shining and warming the entire air. 

“John, what are you doing here?” Greg asked when he joined him, a notebook in hand and sporting the serious air he always got when he was working a difficult case.

“Just heading home,” John replied, looking behind him, two corpses lying on the ground and a dozen of policemen busy delimiting the perimeter, “Where’s Sherlock?”

“Not here, that’s for sure,” Greg answered, rolling his eyes.

“Easy one then?” John frowned.

“Not really, but I called him and he-” He stopped, biting his lip before rubbing at his nape, “He couldn’t come.”

John frowned again, not missing Greg’s sudden discomfort. “What did he tell you?”

“Nothing, just that he was busy.” Greg answered too quickly.

“We don’t have any clients and Sherlock has been complaining for days now,” John said, “He wouldn’t have refused this case for anything in the world.”

“Listen,” Greg sighed, looking back at him, “I kept insisting, over and over and he probably snapped before thinking twice about it and clearly he didn’t want to tell me, and I really didn’t need to know, and-”

“Greg,” John cut him, “What did he say?”

“I really shouldn’t,” Greg said again, beginning to walk away “I have to go.”

John almost went after him, curiosity creeping through his mind, but then he could always ask Sherlock when he got home. If he hadn’t burnt the flat down, or worse. But just as he was about to leave, he heard Greg call his name.

“John, wait!” He ran back towards him, stopping for a second before looking right in John’s eyes, “Maybe I should tell you, it’s about time anyway!”

John sighed, “Greg, just tell me for god’s sake!”

“Sherlock told me, word for word, that he couldn’t come because both of you had planned to order take away and watch a movie tonight, and he didn’t have time to work on my stupid crime scene.”

John blinked, once, twice, and Greg patted his shoulder, “Enjoy your movie!”

He ran back to the crime scene and a car horn brought John back to reality. He wanted to call Greg, to asked him if he was certain, if those were Sherlock’s exact words, because it couldn’t be. John had had to hide his gun yesterday because of Sherlock’s state of boredom, he had read every newspaper hoping to find a puzzle to keep him busy, and Sherlock couldn’t refuse an apparently interesting crime scene just because John had proposed they have a movie night. It couldn’t be.

It couldn’t.

Before he realised what was happening, John found himself running back to Baker Street. He needed to see Sherlock, now. He needed to ask him, to demand what was that all about, ask him why. Because there was a growing hope spreading through John’s chest and he needed to know, needed to be sure. Because Sherlock might be-

“Oh, John, running at this time of day?”

“Hi, Mrs. Hudson,” John panted, waiting for her to open the front door. “Need any help with these?”

He pointed at the grocery bags on the pavement, but Mrs. Hudson laughed, shaking her head, “Don’t worry dear, you should go up and rest. Oh, and take a shower too”

“I will,” John nodded, trying to calm his breathing. He couldn’t burst into the flat like that. He needed to think, to be in control. “Have a good evening.”

“You too, dear.”

John smiled at her. If he was right, his evening would be way more than just good. John forced himself to take the stairs one at the time, closing his eyes for a second before opening the door. He could hear Sherlock in the kitchen, probably working on a new experiment going by the faint smell of acid, and John took off his coat. He breathed in deeply and-

“Oh John,” Sherlock said from the kitchen, the sound of his chair sliding against the floor as he stood up,, “I was thinking we could order from that new place down the street,” he walked inside the living room, looking down at some stain on his dressing gown, “I heard they ha-”

He cut himself as he looked up to John, eyes scanning his face and chest before breathing out a quiet, “Oh.”

“Sherlock,” John began but stopped, trying to find the right words.

“You talked to Lestrade,” Sherlock stated, his entire face closing under John’s stare.

“I ran into him on the way back,” John explained, fidgeting with his jumper. 

Sherlock looked at their chairs, and John felt his heartbeat quicken. 

“And of course he couldn’t keep his mouth shut,” Sherlock snapped, “I should have known.”

“Sherlock, I-”

“No need for that, John,” Sherlock cut him off, walking back to the kitchen, still avoiding John’s eyes, “I have an experiment to work on tonight.”

John watched as he disappeared into the kitchen and breathed in deeply. Now was not the time to think, he had years to think about this. Now, John needed to act. He needed to take. Without any word, he joined him, smiling slightly as he spotted Sherlock turning his back to him, hands on the kitchen counter and his head hanging down. John could swear he saw a shiver run through Sherlock’s back but Sherlock said nothing as he approached. 

“Sherlock,” John whispered, tentatively sliding one hand up Sherlock’s shoulder blade, “Look at me.”

“John, please,” Sherlock whispered, “Can you just forget about it?”

John stepped closer, pressing his chest to Sherlock’s back and feeling him tense, “No, I can’t. I don’t want to.”

“What are y-”

Sherlock stopped as John slid his arms around his waist, resting his head against his back. Neither of them moved for a long moment, breathing together, Sherlock’s back warm and his scent making John’s head spin. He heard Sherlock inhale deeply before his hand came to rest over John’s on his stomach, fingers brushing lightly before squeezing, and John smiled. He was in love with this brilliant man, so in love his chest might combust any moment.

“John,” Sherlock breathed out, “You need to be certain.”

“I am,” John answered quickly, “Have been for a long time now.”

“You don’t understand,” Sherlock said, his voice breaking and John held him tighter, “You need to think about this because I-”

“Sherlock, I’ve thought about it for too long, I’m sure.”

Sherlock shivered in his arms, letting go of John’s hand before beginning to turn, and John loosened his grip so they could properly face each other. He kept both hands on Sherlock’s hips, looking up to stare at Sherlock’s eyes, smiling as he took in the flush on his cheeks, his tentative smile and the undeniable hope in his eyes.

“I’m certain,” John said again, his voice just above a whisper and Sherlock’s smile widened.

“I’m certain too,” he murmured.

John felt his stomach flutter, the joy filling him making him want to laugh, want to jump, want to kiss Sherlock and never let go. So he did just that. Sherlock let out a quiet moan as their lips met, barely brushing, and his hands slid up John’s nape. He let his thumb caress the skin behind John’s ear, and John pressed their mouths together more firmly. Sherlock’s lips were soft, almost too soft, and John was afraid he might never be able to stop kissing him. He kept it chaste for long seconds, pulling away just to able to kiss him again, Sherlock now smiling each time, chasing his lips.

John laughed into their kiss and he felt Sherlock hold him tighter, his tongue darting out to lick at John’s lower lip, and John caught it between his lip. The kiss deepened, their tongues meeting again and again in a slow dance, as if they’d been kissing for years. Nothing had ever felt more right.

“John,” Sherlock moaned when they parted, resting his forehead against John’s. 

John smiled, “If I knew a simple movie night could get me such a kiss, I would have suggested it sooner.”

Sherlock’s laugh echoed in the room, John marveling at the feeling of the rumble of the chest against his, capturing his mouth again. He needed more, needed to make Sherlock his. He had dreamed about this so many times, had imagined what Sherlock’s naked body would looked like splayed on his dark sheets, had wondered if his skin would feel tender under his hands, fantasized about the noises he would made. All of it now within his reach. He could feel his cock harden in his pants, and apparently so could Sherlock, arcing into John’s embrace

“John, yes.”

“We don’t have to,” John said, not wanting to rush things. 

“I want to,” Sherlock breathed against his lips.

“Are you su-”

“John,” Sherlock cut him off, smiling, “I’ve done this before, I know what I want.”

John felt a sudden prick of jealousy run through him. He wanted to ask who, to demand how they had touched him, when, and how many times, but he kept his mouth shut. He had no right to ask such questions, and it didn’t matter anyway, Sherlock was his now.

“John?” Sherlock called, the slightest hint of doubt in his voice and John hurried to kiss him again. 

He pushed his erection more firmly against Sherlock’s thigh and felt Sherlock’s own cock against his stomach. He was only wearing his pajama pants and John could almost feel its warmth. He wanted to touch, to taste. 

“Bed?” Sherlock asked, already panting and John hurried to lead them towards Sherlock’s bedroom.

He pushed Sherlock on the bed, crawling between his legs before taking back his mouth. Sherlock’s hands were roaming over his back, tugging at his jumper until he could slide them under it. John gasped into their kiss, waiting until Sherlock had began to tug on both his shirt and jumper to straighten up and let him remove them both. Sherlock’s hands immediately caressed his chest, belly, nipple and scars. John stared down at him, breathing heavily at being the subject of Sherlock’s focused attention. He waited until Sherlock looked back up at him before helping to remove his own shirt and dressing gown, both items landing on the floor. Sherlock pulled John back to him, reclaiming his mouth as his hands slid down his bare back, fingers slipping over his arse. John rocked slowly against him, their erections brushing together, and Sherlock threw his head back.

“John, please.”

John kissed down his chest, stopping at the waistband of his pajama pants. He glanced up at Sherlock as he removed them slowly, moaning loudly as he realised Sherlock wasn't wearing any pants underneath. He would have spent the entire evening with John on the sofa without pants.

“God, Sherlock,” he breathed out, letting the pajamas fall on the floor too.

“You, now,” Sherlock asked and John hurried to remove his own trousers and pants, settling back between Sherlock’s legs. “Oh, yes.”

Sherlock locked one leg around his waist, their erections sliding against one another more easily and they both moaned loudly. John kissed at Sherlock’s neck, both hands threading through his curls and he felt Sherlock’s entire body arch under his. 

“In the nightstand,” Sherlock panted, “lube.”

John smiled, kissing him quickly before reaching for the tube, pouring lube on his hand before closing it around Sherlock’s erection. 

“Oh, John!”

John smirked, letting go of his cock to lock their groins together again, the friction more enjoyable now, and Sherlock dug his nails into his arse, canting his lips higher. John felt pleasure creep down his spine, invade his belly and make his head spin. He wanted so much more, craved for their bodies to become one, and he kissed Sherlock hard, trying to pour all of his love through one single kiss.

“John, please,” Sherlock panted when they broke off, placing the bottle of lube back in John’s hands and thrusting up in a clear invitation.

John almost asked if he was certain but Sherlock cut him with a single look, his smile spreading to his eyes and John wanted to laugh, not remembering the last time he had felt this happy. He prepared Sherlock slowly, enjoying the small shivers running through him when he pushed his fingers just deep enough, when he kissed at the skin where neck met shoulder, when he sucked lightly. Sherlock’s moans were filling the room, more and more needy as John added another finger, opening him carefully. Even if Sherlock had made it clear it wasn’t his first time, John was pretty sure he hadn’t done any of this for a long time, and he wanted, no, he needed to take his time. 

He needed to make this moment last as long as possible.

“John, I’m ready,” Sherlock finally moaned, hands cupping John’s face to kiss him. “Please.”

John pulled his fingers out, searching for the lube on the bed without breaking their kiss and spread some on his cock, now achingly hard. He felt Sherlock smile against his lips as he aligned their hips, Sherlock’s legs still around his waist and the head of his cock pushing against his entrance. Sherlock threw his head back, biting at his lower lip as John slid further in, staring down at him. He was this beautiful man’s lover. He was the only one getting to watch him like this, open and trusting, his. 

“Oh, John,” Sherlock moaned once John was fully seated inside him.

“You feel so good,” John whispered, kissing down his neck, “Amazing.”

He pulled out slowly before sliding in again, just as gently. Sherlock was still tensed around him and John waited until he was more relaxed before increasing his pace. Sherlock was staring back at him now, the both of them panting against each other mouths, and John slapped their hips together more firmly, Sherlock’s back arching on the bed as he cried out. 

“Oh, fuck, Sherlock.”

He drove into him faster, hands back into Sherlock’s hair, tugging lightly. He could feel Sherlock’s erection trapped between their stomachs, each movement stroking him in time with John’s thrusts. Sherlock was moaning nonsense now, John catching his name from time to time, and he loved him like this, losing his control. 

“John, yes, yes,” Sherlock whimpered, hands pushing against his arse, urging him to go faster, to go deeper.

John felt the exact moment Sherlock’s orgasm hit, his muscles clenching around John’s cock and his entire body going still underneath him. He watched in awe as Sherlock came between them, eyes shut tight and his mouth hanging open, crying out John’s name. He waited until Sherlock was truly spent before easing the pressure against his cock, thrusting into him relentlessly now, chasing his own orgasm. He felt Sherlock’s hole squeeze around him, and he thrust hard into him once, twice, and John was coming too, buried deep inside. 

“God, Sherlock!”

He fell back next to him, Sherlock rolling to his side to attach their bodies together. John couldn’t breathe properly anymore, his entire body shivering, and he let Sherlock kiss over his neck and cheeks. John chased his lips, kissing him deeply as they relaxed against one another. He could feel Sherlock’s beating heart against his chest, and he marvelled at the thought of owning it, of being the man Sherlock had chosen. 

“I guess movie night is cancelled,” John joked, wanting to hear Sherlock laugh again, and the deep sound made his chest felt warmer.

“Too bad,” Sherlock replied, “I was looking forward to it.”

John kissed him, smiling, “Yes, so I’ve been told.”

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comment are very appreciated !


End file.
